


Echo in the Mirror

by Aquelon



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: (featuring: no idea how the Shadows work), FULLY EXPECT a fic that is incompatible with the contents of this fic sometime soon, Gen, Kevin shows up in chapter two and is kind of a background character, The Shadows, Wyatt Dovenpart has a Video Game Doppelganger, and THEN some post-Plot Bomb ones, and for this might be paranoia-inducing, but he's cool and i like him, content warnings for Wyatt Dovenpart Experiences A Lot Of Distress, figured i should post the fics for my og dovenpart hcs, i don't know but stay safe, of dubious intentions, post-Season 9 Day X, rated Teen for those reasons, so that more people can spend more time thinking about Wyatt Dovenpart, the lore that this is drawing from is available as one of the IRMs on Dovenpart's wiki page
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquelon/pseuds/Aquelon
Summary: Wyatt Dovenpart comes face to face with their doppelganger.
Kudos: 3





	1. Downsizing

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Echo by Crusher ft. Gumi  
> as stated in the tags, please fully expect one or more fics with a different headcanon about Dove's doppelganger, based on the simple fact that it would have been canon.  
> PLEASE THINK ABOUT WYATT DOVENPART.  
> WWND

Dovenpart barely hears the Peanut’s final mocking words before he blacks out. He’s still somewhat aware that this is the shadows, this time, but he’s not sure quite how long he spends stuck there.

He regains… consciousness? in the hallway outside a lounge where the Tacos tend to hang out. He can hear discussion about… the election results? Oh boy, those are dropping soon, huh.

“Does it… even matter whether we get any blessings?” Wheerer is saying. “This’s… it’s been a rough few hours.”

Mcdowell sounds apprehensive. “We can’t give up hope yet.”

“If we get better,” Hex growls with a combination of determination and frustration, “maybe we can get them back!”

“We still have things to lose,” someone says, calmly. It’s a very familiar voice.

Fig sounds confused by that: “Um, what do you mean?”

“This team is built on failure and on ripping the bridge apart.” Whoever it is-- oh no-- still sounds calm, measured, nonchalant in a way that doesn’t properly hide how ominous their words are. “Who are you without that?”

“Uh, Dove,” Vito says, also from inside the lounge, “what’re ya talking about?”

The person inside the lounge who is not Dovenpart, but who unmistakably sounds like him, does not answer the question. Instead, they say, “Results drop in about ten seconds.”

There’s no question about it.

That’s his doppelganger.

A dozen thoughts rush through Dovenpart’s head, not helped by the fact that the shadows being cast down the hallway already look darker and his head is swimming like he just stood up too fast and and and… 

The most important thought, though, is that he can’t risk the doppelganger hurting any of his teammates. As much as he doesn’t want to confront it, he can’t risk the idea of not doing so. He looks around frantically for the door from the hallway to the lounge, and hurries towards it.

As he does so, the time before the election results drop runs out. As that happens, something that feels like a hand made of shadow closes around his middle and starts to faintly pull.

Okay, that’s… not good.

He reaches the door and fumbles with the doorknob, every move that remains in real life suddenly a strain. From inside, he can hear his teammates talking about the results, which are probably being displayed on a TV or something. Something about overall team improvement… 

“Downsizing?” Wheerer says anxiously, then, “Oh, it’s a batter, not a pitcher. But still! That’s…”

“...Dovenpart?” Rat asks cautiously.

Dovenpart finally manages to get the door handle to work good. The door swings open with a dramatic noise.

His doppelganger is standing in roughly the middle of the room, looking towards the door, a completely unreadable, seemingly impassive expression on its face. It looks significantly less low-poly than it did in that damn game, but more low-poly than a completely normal person would look. Faint glitchy effects are starting to peel off of it and flicker away.

Dovenpart is starting to faintly drip small tufts of shadow. This is potentially really bad.

Rat looks back and forth between the two Dovenparts, as does most of the rest of the team. Everyone looks confused (well, except for the doppelganger, who except for what might have been a brief eyebrow raise of recognition and a solidly maintained eye contact does not acknowledge its counterpart’s arrival at all). Significantly more cautiously and bewilderedly, Rat repeats, _“...Dovenpart??”_

The shadows are getting darker. Dovenpart definitely can’t stay out of them for much longer, but the least he can do is make sure his friends are safe. Maintaining eye contact with the doppelganger’s utterly neutral face, he forces as much willpower as he can into a helpless plea: “Just… don’t hurt them.” More quietly, he adds, “I’ve done that enough.”

There is a very long moment of silence. The tug of shadows gets harder to fight against; the shadows in every corner appear darker still. The rest of the Tacos are watching like they’re not quite sure what to do.

Finally, the doppelganger speaks, as calm as ever. “Do you think you can change what is to come?” It tilts its head slightly, maintaining eye contact. “Do you think either of us have control here?”

That’s not a promising answer. Dovenpart grits his teeth and forces himself forward one step, then another. The shadows close tighter and tighter and he knows that he doesn’t know when he’ll get out of them next. Every word is a struggle to make it louder than a whisper. “I don’t… know about that… I don’t know. But… don’t hurt… my friends.” He draws on every bit of energy he has. “I won’t… let you hurt them.”

“Not up to you,” the doppelganger says softly… 

...but Dovenpart isn’t listening. He forces himself forward in a desperate lunge and tackles his doppelganger.

The darkness closes in as it falls backwards. He grabs onto surprisingly solid clothing and hopes for the best.

Everything goes black.

… 

The shadows are dimly lit. They’re less fuzzy and undefinable than they were when he was phasing in and out of them, which is to say that they’re only as fuzzy and undefinable as Los Angeli is on average. He can see his doppelganger, definitely also in the shadows (phew), but before he can confront it about anything, it twists out of his grip and walks away, giving a wry sort of half-salute as it leaves.

He struggles to his feet and takes a deep, shaky breath.

Welp. So he’s in the shadows now.

The only thing he can think to do is to track down his doppelganger. He’s not confident that it will be safe to leave the shadows until he finds it. And then… 

He needs to figure out what it wants. And if he has to (and he suspects he might have to) he needs to defeat it.

But first… 

He needs a break. He needs a nap. He needs to watch like five hundred episodes of Naruto.


	2. What do you want?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to be time for a heroic quest. Probably.

Dovenpart’s been in the shadows for… uh… a bunch of time. Long enough that he’s made sort-of-friends with the ghost dude already in the shadows, and had a few run-ins with… a couple other people in the Tacos’ shadows. The most frequently present one is kind of weird to be around, and super hard to remember the name of ( _something_ Clembons. It was a weird name.)... but mostly, he’s been rewatching Naruto.

He’s been in this semi-darkness long enough that he’s rewatched all of it.

“C’mon, kiddo,” Kevin Dudley, the aforementioned ghost dude, pesters, “ya wanna go steal some shoes?”

“Not particularly.”

“Poker?”

Dovenpart shakes his head emphatically.

“What about hustlin’ some horses?”

“If you want to try to hustle Sexton, go for it.” Dovenpart scrolls down the list of anime episodes. He could rewatch the whole thing from the beginning, but he doesn’t really feel like it right now.

He could take Kevin up on any of his offers, but like, that would involve him going outside and possibly running into other people. Other people are basically the last thing he wants right now. If he has to explain anything to anyone… 

There are other things he’s been meaning to do, but he can’t bring himself to get started on them either. He scrolls through the anime episodes some more. Oh right, Boruto exists.

He’s not as much of a fan of that sequel as he is of the main series, but it’s still pretty good. “I’ll be busy for a while longer.”

Kevin shrugs. “Whatever ya say.” He turns around and phases through a wall and leaves.

Dovenpart sits down, puts on the first episode of Boruto, and chills out.

He gets a few episodes into it before he starts feeling a creeping sensation of being watched. At first, he tries to shrug it off.

Maybe it’s just one of the other folks in the shadows. He pauses the episode, looks around, sees no one.

“Screw off,” he says to no one in particular, “I’m trying to watch anime.”

There’s no reply.

He presses play on the episode and watches some more.

The feeling of being watched doesn’t go away.

He gets a few more episodes in. The door to the Naruto shed creaks open. The light filtering in still has the same shadowy quality as always, and a bad crawling gut feeling slides down Dovenpart’s spine.

“I’m still busy, Kev--” He turns to look at who is standing in the door-- “...in…”

It’s not Kevin.

Oh you’ve gotta be kidding.

Dovenpart jumps to his feet, pausing the episode frantically, and looks around hastily for something to potentially defend himself. Uhhhhh… he holds the TV remote like a weapon, even though it really isn’t.

The doppelganger stands in the doorway, as unemotive as it’s ever been. “Couldn’t get a good view from out there.”

Dovenpart grits his teeth and clenches the remote so hard his knuckles go white. He pretends he’s not shaking. The last time, and also only time, he’s actually seen the damn thing in real life was when he first got shadowed. “Wh-what do you want?” He’s definitely raising his voice up pretty loud.

The doppelganger tilts its head to the right very slowly. “I want to watch some Boruto.”

“Other than that!” Dovenpart’s voice cracks just a little bit. “Why are you haunting my life with ominous warnings? Have you been threatening my friends? Are you the reason I’m in this damn splort in the first place?”

The doppelganger very slowly tilts its head back up, then very slowly over to the left side.

“Answer the question!” Dovenpart snaps, even though he’s pretty sure he does not have control over this situation.

The doppelganger is still in the middle of the head tilt. It is very much not answering. An uncomfortable silence settles over the room.

“Oi, pal,--” Kevin pokes his head through one of the side walls-- “everythin’ okay in there?”

Dovenpart screams, mostly because he’s startled. Kevin looks from Dovenpart to the doppelganger, then slowly back to Dovenpart, looking increasingly confused.

The doppelganger takes a step back, calmly. “No anime today, then?” It places one hand on the door handle as it takes another step back. “See you around.” The door swings shut.

“Like hell I will,” Dovenpart mutters through clenched teeth.

Kevin steps the rest of the way through the wall and looks around. “What was that-all about?”

Dovenpart is too busy steaming with rage to respond. “Stupid piece of garbage video game jerkward piece of f--” He stops. “How long has that damn thing been watching me? Has it been watching me? Grrr damn thing could still be watching right now!”

He looks up at Kevin abruptly. 

“Do you know how to use a sword?”

“What?”

“I need to learn how to use a sword.”

Kevin looks hopelessly confused by the situation. “Well, I consider myself a crack shot with my ol’ pistol, though I ain’t had to use it for a while, but not a sword, no.”

“Well, that’s just great.” Dovenpart crosses his arms frustratedly, still holding the TV remote. “I need to go find someone who can teach me how to use a sword.”

“I reckon we can probably find someone,” Kevin says consideringly. “Used to know a guy who had a way with knives, and y’know, knives are just really small swords.”

“Not… not really,” Dovenpart says.

“Eh, it’s close enough.” Kevin shrugs. “So why’re you lookin’ to learn swords, anyway?”

“If that overrated pile of polygons comes back, I want to be ready,” Dovenpart says, looking up dramatically. “And if it doesn’t, I want to find it and get some answers.”

“Fair ‘nuff,” Kevin says, with none of the melodrama this situation deserves. “Ya can count me in.”


End file.
